


that kind of lovin' turns a man into a slave

by notthebigspoon



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-21
Updated: 2012-10-21
Packaged: 2017-11-16 17:38:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/542080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthebigspoon/pseuds/notthebigspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Today is one of those days that George can't really believe Javi wants <i>him</i>.</p><p>Title taken from Crazy by Aerosmith.</p>
            </blockquote>





	that kind of lovin' turns a man into a slave

Today is one of those days that George can't really believe Javi wants _him_. That Javi is his. Sometimes he thinks of the day that Javi kissed him and he'd thought that Javi must be drunk or maybe just crazy when it turned out Javi had wanted George since the day he'd shown up for spring training. It doesn't make any sense to George but he's not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He's going to keep this for as long as Javi lets him.

Javi's wandering back and forth on the balcony of their hotel room, on the phone with someone. The sun is setting and the rays are hitting him in all the right ways. It glows off his hair, lights his profile. His biceps, the line of his jaw. George can't really see his face but he assumes that Javi is smiling. Just the thought of it makes _him_ grin. He sees Javi rub his own chest, slide a hand over his own neck, squeezing and rubbing. It makes George's mouth water.

He's never really tried to seduce Javi. Sex with them just tends to happen. But now he wants this, he wants to make it happen. He's not sure how to do it. He chews on his lip before stripping his clothes off and tossing them aside. He pulls on a pair of low slung gym shorts that Javi had once said made him want to bite George's hips. He sprawls back on the bed, closes his eyes. Doesn't open them even when he hears the sliding door move. 

When Javi groans, he smiles. Javi's voice is low, guttural, “Fucking _christ_ , look at you.”

The bed shifts with Javi's weight. Like George had guessed, hoped, the first thing Javi does is hook his fingertips in the waistband of George's shorts, tugging them down so he can bite George's hips. He kisses and bites his way up George's chest, kissing him hard and looking down at him with dark eyes.

“You're going to be the death of me.”


End file.
